


Incidents of Humanity

by pancakedispatcher



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Nyota Uhura, Emotional Spock (Star Trek), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, It gets really gay, Light Angst, M/M, Spock (Star Trek) Has Feelings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gay nerds in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2020-12-28 08:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21133397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakedispatcher/pseuds/pancakedispatcher
Summary: And so he could be forgiven, Spock has concluded, when he is caught off-guard by his human nature. So much of his life has been spent in the pursuit of Vulcan values and emotionless logic that it is...disconcerting when he is reminded of his humanity, to say the least.-----Spock is constantly reminded of his humanity - however small and repressed that may be - by none other than James T. Kirk, and finds himself unprepared to deal with the emotional revelations this uncovers.





	1. Jim Kirk's Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Hooo boy, I haven't written a fic in a very long time, so please go easy on me! This is also my first every spirk fic; I'm a McKirk shipper at heart, but sometimes you just have to embrace Spock and Kirk's undeniable love. I hope people are able to enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Thank you, Gwyn, for encouraging me to actually post this!

Spock is Vulcan. 

Of course, if one were to be technical, this was only the case for 50% of his genetic makeup. Much of his life, in fact, has been dictated by the circumstances of his birth and his less than usual parentage, and so to disregard his human DNA could be misconstrued as irresponsible and illogical. 

Regardless of this, though, if one were to look at Spock’s records, it would list Vulcan as his home planet. It was his first language, and - despite the influence of his human mother - he had been raised surrounded by and immersed in Vulcan culture. When gazed upon by his peers, they were not presented with a neat half-and-half representation of his two distinctly different ancestries; no, what they saw was a Vulcan, and if one were to ask Spock how he identified - not that anyone had attempted to do so - he would answer as such. How his fellow Vulcans perceived him and his impure bloodline was, in Spock’s mind, irrelevant. He felt Vulcan in all the ways that conceivably mattered.

And so he could be forgiven, Spock has concluded, when he is caught off-guard by his human nature. So much of his life has been spent in the pursuit of Vulcan values and emotionless logic that it is...disconcerting when he is reminded of his humanity, to say the least. 

This situation that occurred this morning would qualify as such an example. 

It was only a few hours into Alpha Shift, and Spock had been manning the science station, as per his usual duties on the Bridge. Nothing of note had occurred thus far, the _Enterprise _ simply being on what Captain Kirk - Jim, as his friend constantly reminded him - curiously referred to as a “milk run”; despite no dairy produce of any kind being involved in the proceedings, Spock had ascertained. 

Jim was over by the helm, leaning over and resting his elbows on the dash as he conversed with Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov; this, too, was nothing out of the ordinary, as the Captain had an incorrigible habit of leaving his chair to mill about the Bridge and talk with the crew, something that Spock failed to see as being conducive to a good work ethic. 

In fact, even when Kirk looked over his shoulder and gave a lopsided grin at his First Officer, it was nothing unusual. Since having reconciled their differences and moving on from their initial animosity, the two had managed to forge a strong bond of friendship and comradery, thus inciting the Captain to throw many a friendly expression at Spock. 

What was unusual, however, was Spock’s reaction. Usually in such circumstances, the science officer would simply raise an eyebrow, often eliciting an outright chuckle from his friend and colleague. On this occasion, though, Spock was struck by a quite frankly disturbing thought.

With the fluorescent lights of the _Enterprise’s _ bridge bouncing off of already-too-bright eyes, Spock couldn’t help but think that despite having been witness to the births and deaths of countless stars, despite having gazed upon objectively spectacular nebulae, despite the universe having presented him with a dazzling myriad of awe-inspiring sceneries, despite all of this ...nothing was quite as breathtaking as Jim Kirk’s smile. 

So startled was he by this unwelcome and unexpected revelation, Spock - in another display of inelegant humanity - found his stylus falling from the now slackened grasp of his hand, bouncing on the ships floor. 

Jim, of course, found this amusing and simply grinned harder, making some snide remark about the Vulcan losing his touch - Spock was too overwhelmed by his thoughts to take much notice, though, and instead stared intently down at the dropped apparatus. 

All of this had led to now, with Spock fruitlessly trying to meditate in his quarters. Regular meditation is essential in retaining one’s mental composure, and despite having made no changes to his usual routine, Spock can only conclude that he has been lacking in his mental discipline recently. There is no other conceivable reason for the incident on the Bridge this morning.

Normally, the meditative state comes easily to Spock; he has, after all, been practicing the discipline since a young age, as is customary among Vulcans. It is second nature to him, now - to borrow a Human idiom, he finds it as easy as breathing. 

In this instance, however, Spock is finding his adeptness to be ...lacking. His thoughts, usually so ordered and rigorously maintained, are whirring around his brain. They are entering and leaving his consciousness before he truly has the chance to acquaint himself with them, slipping through his metaphorical fingers like the sands of ShiKhar.

It would be easier, Spock suspects, if he was not so affected by his unwelcome revelation earlier. 

It takes Spock 28 minutes and 35 seconds longer to slip into a meditative state than is the norm, but, once it is achieved, Spock begins to carefully strengthen his shields and reorder the chaos that his mental scape has been thrown in to.

He is sure that, with an increased dedication to his meditation and mental control, no more incidents such as the one this morning will occur again.


	2. Olympic Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up nerds, I'm back with some more gay space pining

The incidents have not, as Spock predicted, dissisted. 

In fact, Spock has observed that they had indeed increased to a frankly alarming frequency, despite his reinforced commitment to regular meditation and maintenance of his mental shields. 

Spock’s subconscious appears to be evolving - or perhaps devolving would be the correct phrase - into that of an unstructured, undisciplined human mess, something Spock and his tutors on Vulcan worked hard to prevent through a process of rigorous mental training. 

It was becoming a problem. 

For the most part, Spock finds himself able to complete his duties to his normal standard - which is to say, impeccably. However, this isn’t always the case, and the Science Officer has observed that his efficiency has dropped by 5.6 percent over the past week. 

Such an instance was happening at this very moment, and Spock was finding himself helpless to stop it. 

They were on an away mission, sent by Starfleet as formal diplomats to begin treaty negotiation talks with a newly discovered civilisation in the Beta quadrant. The planet - known as Byni by its inhabitants - was naturally rich in dilithium crystals, but lacked any kind of substantial protection from interplanetary forces. Thus, it had been concluded by the fleets admiralty, Byni was an ideal candidate for joining the Federation. 

This was not the Enterprise’s first foray into the art of negotiation; as the fleet’s flagship, it was often seen as an act of good faith and respect to send the Enterprise to oversee talks, and the Captain’s involvement often pleased their hosts. 

Spock considers himself to be skilled at such diplomatic matters, especially when in partnership with the captain. Jim Kirk brings the, often much needed, Human aspect to negotiations, and is able to charm and socialise with all involved parties. Spock’s job was to keep the Captain on track, and provide logical reasoning and careful analysis of the best negotiation methods. To borrow Kirk’s phrasing, they appeared to make ‘one hell of a team’. 

Unfortunately, Spock is currently finding himself unable to give his full concentration to the task at hand, because his attention is being directed elsewhere. 

More specifically, it appears to be devoted to gazing at the Captain’s face. 

Spock is aware of Jim’s objective aesthetic appeal. Among Humans, his facial structure - combined with his fair hair and blue eyes - are to be considered most pleasing, and Spock is logical enough to agree with this assessment. There is a reason the Captain is so popular with the many ambassadors they encounter, and it is not solely due to his talent for social pursuits. 

Again, Jim Kirk is attractive, but that is normally as far as Spock’s observations go. It doesn’t not mean anything, does not have any future ramifications or consequences, and Spock is able to go about his daily ministrations without further consideration to the objective beauty of the Captain. 

Except for right now, it would seem. 

Jim is conversing with the leader of the Bynians, and a dutiful First Office would be paying attention to the discussion at hand, as it would undoubtedly hold importance to the overall negotiations. 

To an outside observer, it would probably appear as though this was, in fact, what Spock is doing. His gaze is fixed firmly on the Captain’s face as he talks, but instead of his attention being spent on Jim’s words, Spock is instead finding himself calculating the exact curve of his friends jaw, identifying the precise shade of blue held in his eyes, counting the freckles scattered across his otherwise smooth and unblemished skin. 

It occurs to Spock that there is a difference between knowing someone to be attractive, and _finding_ them attractive. 

It also occurs to Spock that he seems to be hurtling towards the later at a speed of Warp 9.

By the time the discussion between the two leaders has wrapped up, Spock realises he hasn’t learnt any new information about the treaty negotiations, but does now know that the Captain’s eyes most closely resemble the shade of blue known as _Olympic Blue_, #HEX 008ECC.


	3. What is, is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I return! I didn't die a terrible death, uni and a serious lack of motivation just came and kicked my ass instead. But I've not abandoned this fic, I promise - and as proof, have some more soft and yearning Spock.

It would be easier if it was merely a case of attraction. 

Physical attraction can be ignored. It can be suppressed, diverted to other sources, and often simply becomes a subtle, present hum and the back of one’s subconsciousness, until it eventually fades. 

Emotional and intellectual attraction is something different entirely, however.

And that is where Spock is beginning to find himself unravel. 

Although their relationship started out on less than amicable terms - after all, choking someone and marooning them on an ice planet is hardly conducive to forming a friendship - Spock and the Captain had both grown and matured as individuals, and through their close proximity and essential working relationship aboard the _Enterprise _ the two had become not only a formidable command team, but also close friends. 

Before boarding the ship, before joining Jim Kirk’s crew, Spock would have adamantly refused the idea of _friendship _. Whilst Spock can see the benefits in having a working relationship with others, companionship has never been something that he has sought after, and is not considered to be important or, in fact, logical amongst Vulcans. 

Now, however, Spock has not only found a friend in the Captain, but has come to cherish their dynamic. He goes out of his way, even, to spend time with Jim; be it a sparring practice, sharing a meal in the mess, or one of their increasingly frequent - and increasingly challenging, much to Spock’s consternation - chess games. Perhaps if it was just the Captain suggesting they spend time together, Spock could pretend to himself that he was simply conforming to the Captain’s wishes. However, on many occasions, it has been Spock that stands outside Jim’s quarters, chess set tucked neatly under his arm. 

It isn’t just recreational activities that Spock finds himself to enjoy, either. The Captain is keenly intelligent, both academically and emotionally speaking. Many of Spock’s fellow officers find it incredibly difficult to discern the Vulcan’s different emotions, and he does not blame them. It has often been a point of pride for him that he can school his expression to the same blank, emotionless state found on fellow Vulcans. 

Jim, however, seems to be curiously adept at figuring out Spock’s mental and emotional state. 

It is the second anniversary of the destruction of Vulcan, and subsequently, the anniversary of his mother’s death. 

Anniversaries are, to Spock, a curiously human affair - among Vulcans, there is little significance placed upon the annual occurrence of dates. The events happened in the past; there is nothing to be done, no way to change their outcome, and so there is no reason to dwell on them. Ones efforts should instead be focused on the present and the future. 

What is, is.

Were it not for the palpable tension and residual grief among the crew - and indeed the Federation at large - Spock would have paid the date no mind. This is how he would have preferred it, too; to simply go about his daily routine and responsibilities as usual, for the events that happened two years previously are of no consequence to his duties today. 

Instead, Spock was met with pitying glances, Ensigns approaching him with stuttering platitudes of sorrow, and invitations to a crew-wide memorial ceremony to be held in the recreation room. 

Which is why Spock now finds himself on the observation deck, hands clasped behind his back and face tilted to look at the stars surrounding the _Enterprise _. 

Spock has always found stars to be calming - if he were prone to poetry, perhaps he would make some remark about his physical entity being comprised of the same molecular structures, his body made out of the very same matter that allowed planets to form, solar systems to thrive and evolve, life in all its infinite diversity to be created…..but Spock wasn’t a poet, and so he would simply attribute his affinity with the stars to be done to pure scientific curiosity. 

Spock can hear footsteps approaching him from behind, and so turns with some measure of trepidation, expecting to be greeted by another well-meaning - yet ultimately unhelpful - crew member. 

He finds himself experiencing the illogical sensation of relief when he instead makes out the form of one James Tiberius Kirk. 

“Captain,” Spock acknowledges his friend with a tilt of his head, and then returns his attention to the celestial view outside.

Jim doesn’t verbally respond, but instead walks next to Spock, stopping only when the two are almost shoulder-to-shoulder. 

For reasons he cannot explain, and does not want to examine further, Spock finds himself comforted by the Captain’s close proximity. 

In the course of his studies at Starfleet Academy - and then later during his service aboard the Enterprise - Spock has observed that humans have the infuriating habit of evidently having something they want to say, but choosing instead to awkwardly open and close their mouth, akin to a Terran goldfish. 

It is what Jim starts to do now, clearly working out how best to remark upon the current anniversary. Spock feels his muscles tense up in anticipation, not wishing to be faced with yet more platitudes of sympathy. 

“So, Spock, what have you been working on in the labs lately?” 

The question catches the science officer off guard, and is so unexpected it takes him a few moments to process the words. 

“Captain?” Spock asks, tilting his head to face his friend, who returns the gesture in kind. 

Jim gives a one-shouldered shrug, a small smile tugging at the side of his lips. “Well, I’ve not visited the science department in a while, and _somebody’s _ gotta make sure my First Officer isn’t going all Frankenstine down there.” 

At this, Spock realises what his Captain - his close friend - is doing. Rather than dwell on a subject Spock clearly does not need - nor want - to discuss, Jim is instead giving him a much-needed opportunity to focus on matters of more importance. 

Spock feels the beginnings of a smile tugging at his mouth, and an indescribable warmth resonating in his chest. Vulcans may be correct in thinking that friendship is illogical, but Spock is grateful to have discovered the importance of such relationships nonetheless.


	4. Jim Kirk is not a God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update, huh? But I'm alive! And back with a chaotic chapter! Life kind of came and knocked the stuffing out of me for a bit, and then, well, the world went into lock down. Despite all this extra time, I still can't face doing my actual uni work, so figured I should at least try to get this chapter finished. I'll admit, I'm not totally happy with it and I'm really self-conscious about my writing in it, but it's as good as I'll ever be able to make it; also, finishing and posting something gives my brain a lil' boost of serotonin, which is greatly appreciated right now. 
> 
> Anyway, enough prattling on from me - please enjoy this latest offering of stupid space gay drama (which contains some angst, I warn you now)!

Despite all of his talents, his grit and determination, and his frankly unprecedented propensity to defy the odds, Jim Kirk is not a God (disregarding the beliefs of several pre-warp settlements who now view the captain, and indeed the _Enterprise_, as a deity). 

The ship and her crew have been through more than most, and the fact they all remain relatively intact to this day is something of a miracle - if one is prone to believing in such notions of fate, which, of course, Spock is not. Jim is a formidable captain, and would do anything in his power to protect his crew; something he has done, on many an occasion. 

Regardless of this, however, injuries and even deaths on board the _Enterprise_ are not uncommon. 

Spock is no stranger to death, even before his postings on various ships throughout his career in Starfleet. As a Vulcan, he did not share the emotional relationship with mortality that his human counterparts had; the transition between life and death was natural and logical, and whilst the absence of a family member, companion or colleague was felt, Spock saw little reason to devote his mental energy on grieving. 

He was also adept at carrying out his duties - be they as a First Officer, a Science Officer, or Acting Captain - without wasting time worrying about various crew members should they be injured or unfortunately deceased. Some may see this as callous, and a hallmark of his unfeeling Vulcan heritage, but it is part of what makes Spock such a skilled and valuable First Officer. As Doctor Leonard McCoy has attested on many occasions, space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence, and any professional Starfleet officer cannot let their emotions impede their ability to deal with such instances. 

Suffice to say, had one asked Spock even yesterday whether or not he was prepared to put all personal feelings aside and focus on being a dutiful Starfleet officer, his answer would have been a resounding yes.

He was not prepared for this. 

He was not prepared to see Captain Kirk - _Jim_ \- sprawled on the floor of the transporter room, was not prepared to see the pool of blood growing rapidly by the second (_and it was red, so red and_ alien _that it shocked him to his core because this still was not something Spock was accustomed to, despite serving on a ship manned predominantly by humans, despite growing up with a human mother, despite that 50% of his DNA that shared its genetic makeup with the man now crumpled at his feet_), was not prepared to feel it coating his now shaking hands…

He was not prepared to feel as though his very being, his very _katra_, were an atom being split in two, like a black hole was ripping him apart by the seams, like he was a planet being destroyed from the inside out. Every cell in his body had become magnetised, drawn to the iron coursing through Jim's veins and spilling from his wounds. 

The First Officer is pushed roughly out of the way by Doctor McCoy, who begins barking orders as he assesses the Captain with his tricorder. The ability to remain calm and act rationally under pressure is one of the few things that Spock and McCoy have shared and bonded over, but now? Now Spock feels hollow, as if it is his internal organs spilling onto the shiny white floor beneath his feet and not Jim’s. He’s never been one for pointless poetic musing, but in this moment, Spock feels an indescribable kinship with the blanket of space surrounding their ship, for he too has become an unyielding void composed of nothing but coldness and fragmented debris. 

Spock knows that with Jim so clearly incapacitated, the duties of acting Captain fall squarely upon his own shoulders, but the notion of returning to the Bridge to bark orders and navigate their way out of a potential political fiasco seems laughable. 

How is he meant to be responsible for the lives of his fellow crew members when his _captaincolleguefriendcompanion_ may very well be drawing his last breaths? 

Spock’s shaking hands are gently cupped by another's, and he forcibly tears his gaze from McCoy’s back as the doctor works on saving Jim’s life. His eyes meet Nyota’s, and for the first time in many years, Spock feels the overwhelming urge to cry. 

“_Go_,” She says, her tone soft and understanding but with an undeniable sense of urgency. Her usually oh-so-carefully styled hair is slipping out of its usual pony-tail, stray strands of hair stuck to the skin of her face by sweat and blood. The _Enterprise_ was still sustaining damage, and now that Spock was paying attention, he could feel the tell tale jolts and shudders as the ship faced enemy fire. 

His eyes darted back to the medical team now lifting the Captain onto a portable biobed. “But I..._Jim_…” Spock choked out, his usual composure stripped bare. 

“He’s in the best hands possible, Spock. You’ll be able to see him when Leonard has finished working on him, but only if you get us out of this mess first.”

She’s right, of course she is, and Spock can understand the logic behind her argument; he even agrees with it. Despite dedicating much of his life and studies to the pursuit of logic, Spock feels no small amount of compulsion to disregard what he knows is the right course of action. This in and of itself is shocking enough to Spock that it breaks him out of his daze, his posture straightening almost immediately as he slides his hands out of Uhura’s grasp. 

He is, after all, a Vulcan, and he refuses to let these quite frankly dangerous and terrifying new-found emotions destroy his mental shields any more than they already have. He is a student of logic and science first and foremost, with his responsibilities and duties as a proud officer of Starfleet running a close second. 

He has a job to do - _lives_ to save - and he will deal with these emotions and what they mean later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that sure was a ride. Whilst writing this, the chapter felt a billion years long (to be fair, it's taken me nearly that amount of time to get it finished) but looking at it now it seems very short. Ooops, sorry about that! And sorry for any angst caused; the next chapter is the last, and it will have a happy ending, I promise. 
> 
> As always, this is un-beta'd, so if you notice any glaring mistakes (apart from my excessive use of commas) please let me know! Thanks for reading, and I hope you're all staying safe!


	5. Humanity Isn’t So Bad, After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t logically tell you why, but more than that, he did not care; and that disregard for logic, for rationality and reason, was simultaneously the most terrifying and most exhilarating facet of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! It is here, the final chapter. This is by far the closest I've ever gotten to writing ~romance~ in my life, so please excuse any of the cheese and cringe.

“What the fuck is this?”

During his years serving aboard the _Enterprise_, Spock has observed the human propensity to rely on profanity as an expression of anger, confusion and distress. A confusing coping mechanism by any logical standards, especially to Vulcan sensibilities, yet it appears to be particularly effective for the vast majority of humans. It is something that Spock has seen the Captain demonstrate on countless occasions, and he has come to simply accept it as part of Jim’s usual vernacular. 

Spock doesn’t quite understand why his friend and Captain has felt the need to deploy such ‘swear words’ under the current conditions, however, as he is unable to see what could be causing Jim anger, confusion or distress. 

He raises an eyebrow. “It is my letter of resignation, Captain. I was under the impression that I had formatted and labelled the document clearly and according to Starfleet protocol, so I am perplexed by your apparent confusion.” 

The two senior officers were situated in the Captain’s quarters. Jim had been reclined in his chair, legs propped up on his desk surface, but upon reading the PADD presented to him by Spock, he had leapt to his feet and was now staring pensively at the void of space visible through his windows. 

Now, he turned sharply, glaring at his First Officer with stormy eyes and a clenched jaw. Even Spock, who had been described as _emotionally constipated_ by Dr McCoy on several occasions, was able to recognise anger in the tension of his shoulders, the flaring of his nostrils. 

“I can see that it’s a letter of resignation, Spock, but what I don’t understand is why the fuck you’re submitting it in the first place!” 

_Ah_. Spock had been hoping to avoid discussing the why’s of the situation and skip straight to the logistical considerations of his departure from the ship, and organising a suitable replacement. 

The Science Officer reinforced his posture - rigid, and textbook perfect by any Starfleet or Vulcan standards - and clasped his hands behind his back. Thinking fast on his feet (a particular skill of his), Spock decides that the best way forward is to simply state the facts as they are, and hopefully avoid any probing questions that he’d rather not answer. 

“Recent events have highlighted to me that I have become emotionally compromised, and thus unable to fulfill my roles and duties as First Officer aboard this ship effectively. It is therefore in the best interests of both the crew and myself to resign my post and depart from the _Enterprise_ as a matter of haste.” 

Kirk’s eyebrows fly upwards, his expression of anger morphing once more into one of confusion. 

“_Emotionally compromised_? Spock, you’re not making any sense. Tell me what happened.” 

Spock looks down at the floor. He is self-aware enough to recognise that he is unhappy and..._saddened_ by the situation, and was reluctant to discuss it anymore than needed so that his emotions could remain private. 

“I would prefer to not discuss matters of a private nature, Captain, and do not believe that I am obligated to do so for you to accept my resignation.” 

Jim crosses the room, swerving past his desk and coming to a stop in front of Spock. 

He sighs. “Spock, please. I thought we’d gotten past this, I thought...I consider you to be one of my closest friends, Spock. If you really have to leave, I...I won’t be happy, but I’ll respect it. I’ll do whatever you want, you know that. But please, at least tell me _why_. You owe me that much, and not as your Captain, but as your friend.” 

He was right, of course, and Spock couldn’t help but feel a spark of…._happinesscontentmentjoy_ at Jim acknowledging their friendship. But that was where the problem lies, was it not? They were friends. 

Spock cherished his friendship with Jim, and no matter what his Vulcan teaching may tell him otherwise, he considers it to be one of the most important aspects of his personal and working life. But his feelings have grown, mutated into something more, something different, and he would rather leave on good terms than spend years watching as Jim enters and leaves relationships, finds the love and devotion he is so worthy of. A cowardly response, Spock can admit, but it is his preference. 

If only the Captain would make it easy to achieve. 

As it stands, Spock observes two options. Refuse to disclose his reasons to Jim, and end up leaving on bad terms, perhaps damaging their friendship beyond repair. Or...or he could confess the truth, however mortifying it may be, and hope that the Captain does not hold it against him. Either way, he would leave the _Enterprise_, but perhaps the short-term embarrassment of revealing his true motivations would be worth the long-term reward of preserving their friendship. It was only logical, after all. 

Spock squares his shoulders, and raises his eyes to meet those of his Captain’s. A final act of bravery aboard the ship he has served on for all these years seems a fitting way to mark his departure. 

“Captain…._Jim_. I - that is to say….” 

Words had never failed the Vulcan before - in fact, the opposite was true. Humans were constantly complaining that his speech was long winded, necessarily complicated and verbose. It was perhaps ironic that now, when he needed his words more than ever, they seemed to have abandoned him. 

He inhales deeply to steady himself.   
“You nearly died, Jim, of which I am sure you are aware. It was...a most affecting experience. I found myself unable to control my emotions.” 

Jim blinks several times. “Spock, lots of the senior staff were...upset. Heck, McCoy knows better than most what it’s like to be friends with an admittedly reckless idiot. But I’ve been hurt before, Spock, and I can guarantee it will happen again. I don’t see why this time was different than any other, or why….why it would mean you have to _leave the ship_?” 

This conversation was starting to feel less like a discussion and more like an advanced form of Romulan torture with each passing second. 

“I was so affected, Captain, that I emotionally and cognitively shut down and was unable and unwilling to perform my duties as Acting Captain. It was only down to Lieutenant Uhura that I was able to pull together any semblance of control to get the ship and her crew out of the crisis.” Spock took another deep inhale. To borrow a human idiom, it was time to rip off the bandaid once and for all. “My feelings for you have grown to surpass that of mere friendship, and as a result of this emotional compromisation, I am unable to reliably carry out my role as First Officer, and my position serves as a risk to all those under my command. More than that, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable with the knowledge of my feelings.” 

Spock wasn’t prone to metaphor or flights of fancy, but the phrase ‘_you could cut the tension with a knife_’ certainly seemed apt in the current situation. 

Although Spock had entered the Captain’s quarters with no intention of revealing the information he just had, the Vulcan’s mind had already assessed several possible reactions and their respective probabilities. They ranged from Jim laughing at Spock’s expense, to flying across the room and striking him in a fit of rage. 

They did not include Jim’s face breaking into an objectively breath-taking smile, or his hands coming up to rest on Spock’s jaw. 

They certainly did not include the soft press of Jim’s lips against his own. 

As Jim pulls away, Spock lets out an admittedly embarrassingly confused noise. “Jim...I don’t understand, what-” 

“You _idiot_. You goddamn idiot, of course I’m not _uncomfortable_. I love you, Spock, I have for so long, I just never thought that you’d...that we could….”

Jim brings their lips together again, kissing him once, twice, three times more with the sort of tender reverence that Spock thought was only reserved for human love sonnets. 

Spock has spent the majority of his life suppressing his human options, and the sudden influx of joy, happiness, confusion, disbelief, and….love is overwhelming. His learned Vulcan customs are rebelling, but the sensation of loving and being loved in return far surpasses his internalised instincts to repress. He couldn’t logically tell you why, but more than that, he did not care; and that disregard for logic, for rationality and reason, was simultaneously the most terrifying and most exhilarating facet of all. 

With each kiss shared between the two, Spock feels his emotions slotting into place like pieces of a puzzle. _Oh_, he thinks, _oh. This is what it means to love_. 

He could protest. He could demand Jim still accept his resignation (for the first time, Spock is hoping that his Captain disregards Starfleet policy and ignores his misguided attempt to leave the _Enterprise_ all together). He could fight against these distinctly human feelings as they rise to the surface of his mind, shoo them away like he has spent much of his life doing. 

But with Jim’s lips abseiling down his neck, shoulders, chest….well, Spock thinks, perhaps humanity isn’t so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all, folks! I really enjoyed writing this, and getting kudos and comments has been so gratifying. I hope you all enjoyed this little mess of a fic, and thank you for reading! 
> 
> As always, this is totally not proof read by anyone, so if you see any glaring mistakes, please do let me know!


End file.
